


Whether Near or Far, I am Always Yours

by Thats_Amore



Series: Letters to Juliet Verse [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Friendship/Love, Goodbyes, Great Depression, M/M, Nationverse, POV America (Hetalia), Pining, Pre-Slash, Prequel, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25564591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thats_Amore/pseuds/Thats_Amore
Summary: After the Wall Street Crash of 1929, Lithuania has to move out of America's house. A few days after he goes, Romano has to leave too.
Relationships: America/South Italy (Hetalia)
Series: Letters to Juliet Verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838548
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Whether Near or Far, I am Always Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to "A Letter to Juliet (Answered by Feliciano)," but this one can be read independently. Title taken from the song "The End of all Things" by Panic! at the Disco.

_November 1929, America’s house_

When America answered the front door, North Italy was standing there on the other side. Alfred felt a pit of dread form in his stomach, but at least the northern half of Italy was smiling apologetically as he came to collect his brother. Russia had been cheerful as he carried Lithuania away, and he gloated about the fact America could no longer take afford to take care of Lithuania or keep him in his house.

America sighed. “I’m guessing you’re here for Romano, huh?”

Veneziano nodded. “Sì, I came to bring him back home with me.”

 _This place is home to him too_ , America thought. At least, America had tried to make it a home, for both Romano and Lithuania. In turn, both nations had given him a decade of companionship America would always cherish. A decade wasn’t much for a nation, but for a human, it would have been a significant chunk of his life.

America stepped back so Veneziano could enter his home. “Romano should be ready to go in a few minutes,” Alfred told him. “Would you like some coffee? Romano made it, and according to him, it’s much better than American coffee.” He also seemed to prefer it to Lithuania’s coffee, although he could tolerate that better than the coffee America made.

Veneziano took his hat off and placed it next to him before he sat down on the couch in the living room. He didn’t bother to remove his overcoat. “Grazie, that would be nice.”

“He made some cannolis too, if you want any.” America was honestly just trying to delay bringing Romano back into the house for as long as he could. Tolys left a few days ago, and the house already felt quieter without his comforting presence. When Lovino left, the house would feel even more lonely and empty.

Veneziano gave him a sad smile like he understood what America was doing. “I would appreciate that. Just one or two on a small plate, per favore.”

“You got it.” Alfred headed off toward the kitchen, and he prepared a caffe latte just like Romano showed him how to. He put two small cannolis on a plate and walked back into the living room, only to see Veneziano gazing at the decorations and knick-knacks he’d spread around the place.

“You have many lovely things in your home, America,” he said.

“Thank you. I’m not sure how much of this stuff I’ll get to keep.” He couldn’t bear to part with certain items, especially the things Lithuania and Romano made for him. He adjusted the amber bracelet Tolys gave him the first Christmas he spent in his home and glanced over at a colorful vase Lovino sculpted and painted by hand. The vase was currently holding a selection of the wildflowers growing out in his backyard. When Alfred last saw Lovino, he had gone out there to say goodbye to Tony, Ace, and Commodore and to tend to the tomato plants one last time.

When he looked back at North Italy, he had a sympathetic expression on his face. He seemed a lot more patient than he was the previous week, when the nations held the meeting to discuss the stock market crash and the economic woes affecting everyone. Maybe it was more difficult for Veneziano to be irritated with America when he was serving coffee and pastries his brother made, or maybe he could sense how unhappy America truly was. He never wanted the Roaring 20s to come to an end, and he didn’t want his friends to have to move out of his house. Lithuania had left with Russia, who was clearly abusing and controlling him, and Romano would be moving back to a country that was taken over by fascists shortly after he came to America.

The silence stretched on, and it became tense and awkward. “I’ll go see what your brother is doing,” America said. Veneziano nodded as he continued to eat his cannoli, and Alfred headed out to the backyard.

America smiled fondly when he discovered Lovino talking to his alien buddy, Tony. His pet bald eagle Ace was perched in a tree, and Commodore had scooted up next to the edge of the giant pool America installed for him. _I guess they’re going to miss Romano as much as I am_ , America mused.

Tony was the first one to see him. He turned and regards America with red, unearthly eyes. “Vaffanculo, stronzo,” he greeted him.

Alfred giggled as he walked over to them. “You taught him Italian?”

Lovino grinned. “Of course I fuckin’ did. I figured I should teach him something useful before I left.”

“Bastardo,” Tony said amiably. He might have been cursing, but he sounded fond, just like Romano did whenever he cursed at America. He didn’t like him much at the beginning, but their friendship grew by leaps and bounds after that first week, when Romano opened up to him about how incapable he felt compared to his little brother, who had succeeded with industrialization much more than he had. The reminder of that conversation made Alfred’s chest feel light and fluttery, and he pulled Lovino into a spontaneous hug. He didn’t care that the front of Romano’s shirt was wet as a result of Commodore splashing him or from when he was watering the tomato plants

After a couple seconds, Romano returned the embrace. America savored the sensation of holding Lovino and feeling his arms around him for as long as he could.

Romano released a deep sigh. “Vene’s here, isn’t he?”

“He is,” America admitted quietly. He clutched Romano a little tighter.

“I guess that means it’s time for me to go.” He sounded about as reluctant to leave as Alfred was to let him go.

“Guess so.” America forced himself to release Romano from the hug and gave his friend a wobbly smile as he stepped away. He had known this would have to happen eventually, but he’s never been good with people leaving him. Tolys leaving him last week hurt, just like it hurt all those times Arthur left him when he was a child. Inside, he felt just as lonely as he did back then, but since he was an adult, he was able to hold in the tears around other people.

Romano narrows his eyes at him. “Don’t look at me like that, idiota. I’m not dying. You’ll still see me around, and I’ll write you when I can.”

“I know.” But they both knew it wouldn’t be the same. They would see each other every few months instead of every day. If they maintained a friendship, the distance would keep them from being as close as they had been. And with the censorship going on in his home country, Romano would have to be very careful about what he wrote in the letters. They wouldn’t be able to talk openly and honestly like they had when they lived together.

Romano squeezed his shoulder before he headed into the house. America trailed after him, not sure what else to do. Romano hadn’t even left yet, but his imminent departure was weighing heavily on his mind and making Alfred feel purposeless and adrift.

“Hey, Feli,” Romano said. He sounded exhausted, and he didn’t bother to hide that from his little brother. “I just need to change, and then I’ll be ready to go in a few minutes.”

Veneziano smiled like nothing was wrong. “Okay, fratello.” He had either completely missed the sad mood in the air, or he was deliberately ignoring it. America couldn’t blame him.

Romano went upstairs, and America sat down in a chair, waiting for him to return. He only made occasional eye contact with Veneziano as he idly chatted about non-threatening things, and he responded just enough to avoid seeming rude to his temporary guest. North Italy finished his cannolis and his coffee, and America took the dishes back to the kitchen so he wouldn’t have to continue their stilted conversation. His stomach was feeling too unsettled for him to eat right now. Maybe he would have a few cannolis after Romano left.

When he re-entered the room, his breath stopped. Romano was coming downstairs with a suitcase, and he was wearing the same outfit he had years ago when he’d tried to convince America that he had turned cattivo and was plotting revenge against him. Alfred had never told him, but Lovino looked really handsome in that pinstripe suit, and the burgundy color of the shirt suited him. He sure as hell wasn’t going to say anything now when Romano’s brother was in earshot.

Veneziano put back on his hat, and Scout woke up from his nap and trotted into the room. He started headbutting Romano’s legs insistently, and Romano laughed as he bent down to scratch the Maine Coon on top of the head.

“I’m gonna miss you too, silly gatto.” Scout purred loudly, and Lovino stood back up and gave America a sad look. “I’m gonna miss you too, Alfredo.”

A bashful smile appeared on America’s face, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t unexpected for Lovino to call Alfred by his human name, but it always made America feel warm and happy whenever he heard it. It reminded America of the way he had teased Lovino when he made him fettucine alfredo. He had joked that Romano had named the dish after him, mostly because he liked the way Romano would blush as he vehemently denied the claim.

Alfred liked a lot of things about Lovino, including things it would have been too weird for him to mention. “I’m gonna miss you too, Vino,” he replied, perhaps more sincerely than he should have. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Veneziano walked back to the front entryway of America’s house, and America and Romano followed him. North Italy turned back to look at them, but America only caught that with his peripheral vision. At the moment, he only had eyes for South Italy.

They stopped by the front door. America shuffled awkwardly on his feet. “So, this is it, huh?”

Romano coughed and glanced away. “I… uh, left a few recipes for you in the kitchen. Just because I didn’t want you to go hungry, understand? I also wrote down some instructions for how to take care of the tomatoes, the oregano, and the other things I planted in your garden. I didn’t want all my hard work to go to waste.”

America smirked at him. “It’s okay. You can admit you care about me a little.” Romano was adorable when he was trying to pretend he hadn’t done those things for him, and he was even more adorable when he blushed and scowled like he was annoyed. Veneziano laughed in the background, but America didn’t pay attention to him.

“I’ll see you later, idiota.” He shuffled closer and leaned up to kiss his cheek, then repeated the farewell gesture on the other side. “Arrivederci, Alfredo.”

“Goodbye, little Italy.” America stared at Romano and brushed his thumb over his cheek. Part of Alfred wanted to lean in, but he couldn’t trust himself to kiss Romano on the cheek, which would have been unusual for him, but not wrong considering Romano’s goodbye to him. Instead, he imagined leaning in, but not turning his head, which would result in kissing Lovino on the mouth.

He knew Lovino would probably slap him if he tried anything like that, so after a moment of indecision, Alfred stepped away. He smiled and forced his gaze away from plush, pink lips, only to be confronted with a pair of confused, luminous hazel eyes.

 _Lovino is way too attractive for my sanity,_ Alfred thought. He hadn’t gotten to really say goodbye to Tolys before Russia took him away, but he doubts he would have had this issue if he had. For some reason he couldn’t understand, Romano always affected him differently than Lithuania or anyone else ever did.

Veneziano didn’t notice America’s turmoil as he opened the door and ushered his older brother outside. Romano turned around, and America kept the door open to watch as they walked towards Veneziano’s car. He watched them drive away until the car turned the corner at the end of the block and he couldn’t see them anymore.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, silent tears began to leak out of America’s eyes. His house, which had felt full of life last week, was now devoid of anyone but him, a few pets, and his extraterrestrial friend. Without Lithuania’s pleasant humming or Romano’s occasional profanities, America could only hear the sound of his own harsh breathing as he struggled not to sob.

Eventually, America composed himself to walk to the kitchen. His stomach was still unsettled, but cannolis and coffee Romano had brewed himself seemed like the best cure for a broken heart.


End file.
